Today I salute the Whitecaps who were defeated soundly by a Seattle squad today. I had the pleasure of attending the game, and despite a drunken shithead from Seattle sitting behind me, who obviously can’t handle Canadian strength beer, this final game at Empire Field was magical.
The Seattle fans are very impressive, (except for the one schmeeb), in that they are so obnoxious that it actually takes away from the pleasure of watching the game, but hey, you have to respect their exuberance.
Being with my dad made the night more special. Well, at least the night was special to me, he didn’t give a shit and wanted to leave with 30 minutes left to beat the traffic.
I attended games with him at old empire to watch the Whitecaps in the 70s and 80s. Now 85, my dad hasn’t changed a bit. He still loudly calls our players idiots as loud as he can anytime they make a mistake or miss a shot. Of course he is a dream fan for the opposition, since every shot the opposing team misses was “almost a goal.” Ah, you see? He can be positive!
Getting home now I am enjoying another driftwood pale ale, the Twenty Pounder. This one promises a more hoppy taste, and delivers exquisitely. The citrus hops have a nice edge that lingers for a satisfying length of time, then vanishes.
As expected, this double IPA has a little more edge than the fat tug IPA, but is still not so obnoxious takes that it actually takes away from the pleasure of… watching the game.